


homecoming queen

by amuk



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Post-Canon, Relationship Study, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: Their story should have ended on the battlefield, one dying in the other’s hands. Not like this, with the two of them getting ready for a prom they left unfinished years ago. But luckily Adora’s stubborn about happy endings and this was one fight Catra didn’t mind losing.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 108





	homecoming queen

**Author's Note:**

> For Promises, a Catradora zine. I wanted to write a little older, a little wiser Catradora, after the war was over but before the scars had entirely healed. This was written after S2, so…well, some of it is still canon? Ladvyart on twitter drew some stunning art to go with it!

It took no effort at all to slip into the Bright Moon Castle. Especially at night, with long shadows for Catra to dart in and out of. Breathing shallowly, she slunk along walls, hiding in corners whenever a guard deigned to pass by. Not that this was anything new; Catra had learned to sneak out of the Horde’s dorms when she was five, and the guards here had nothing on Hordak’s soldiers. Though, she had to admit it was far easier here; Catra could have been blindfolded and she would have snuck in just as quickly.

To be fair, it might have had something to do with them being at peace now and all that jazz. With no real war or even enemies to fight, the guards were more lax than usual. There wasn’t a need to be tense and wary. Hell, there almost wasn’t a need for guards or any form of security.

All of this just tempted Catra to make some noise. To take a step louder than normal, to make a sound that would jerk the guards awake. Anything that would give them the slimmest chance of catching her or at least be aware of her presence.

Outside a window, the moon hung big and pregnant. Catra turned away with a sigh; this wasn’t the time to play cat and mouse. She had a date. Creeping up to Adora’s room, she ran a hand over her hair, matting it down. Her fingers tugged at her collar, straightening it. A quick glance at her reflection in the window told her what she expected: Catra was smoking hot. As usual.

Without warning, she yanked the door open and poked her head in. “Ready yet?”

“Catra?” To her credit, Adora didn’t jump. She did, however, flinch. It was something to tease her about tomorrow. Turning away from the floor-length mirror, Adora rested her hands on her hips, a frown on her face. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“We lived in a dorm together. A dorm with no doors.” Catra shrugged as she entered the room, closing the door softly behind her. It seemed Glimmer had a hand in the decor again; she had never seen so much purple and pink in her life. Or soft cushions, though she made note to steal one later. None of this felt like Adora but it was hard to stop Glimmer once she set her mind on something.

Stepping lightly around the piles of discarded dresses that littered the floor, Catra sauntered over to her girlfriend with a rakish grin. “Were you just preening in front of the mirror?”

“What? No!” Adora flushed a beet red, her expression giving away everything. She rubbed the scars on her knuckles, embarrassed. “I…I was just checking something.”

“Yourself?” Catra smirked; honestly, Adora just set herself up sometimes. Eyeing her up and down, Catra nodded in approval. Her high-waisted skirt cinched tightly around her shoulderless top; there was a practical air to it all that suited Adora. And for once, it didn’t look like a soldier’s fatigues; there were some benefits to Glimmer’s influence. “You’re looking good, hot stuff.”

“Catra!” If possible, Adora became even more aflame; at this rate, her face would match her top. Crossing her arms, she jabbed her chin toward the door. Her voice trembled. “Don’t you have to help Scorpia?”

“Her outfit’s checked, ma’am!” Catra mock-saluted, grinning impishly. If Adora’s room hadn’t been in Bright Moon, she could have seen it herself. There was something uncomfortable about entering this palace, about the brightly lit halls and open rooms that were nothing like the Horde’s headquarters. It was only at night that this place became bearable and even then, just barely. “She’ll meet us there with Entraptra.”

“You can drop the salute,” Adora grumbled, rolling her eyes. Straightening her skirt, she glanced up at the clock hanging over her door. Her eyes widened. “Is it that late already?”

“Why else would I be here?” Catra scoffed. She had only entered this castle a handful of times since the war ended; just enough to memorize the layout and nothing more. Stepping forward, she leaned closer to Adora. “You’re normally quicker than this—is that makeup?”

Adora recoiled, her hand covering her cheek. Embarrassed, she turned away. “Barely.” When Catra raised an eyebrow, Adora blurted out defensively, “Glimmer told me to wear it.”

“Uh-huh,” Catra snorted. Gods, Adora was a terrible liar and really, it was a miracle she had lasted as long as she had with the Horde. They should have realized earlier that she wasn’t really one of them. “Whatever you say.”

“It’s true!” Adora crossed her arms in a huff.

Now that Adora’s cheeks were uncovered, Catra could make out light traces of blush on her skin. It was a little clumsy, but that was Adora. “I was just teasing.” Leaning forward, she pecked Adora’s cheek. “But seriously, you look good.”

“T-thanks.” Flustered, Adora turned back to the mirror. Pulling her hair up into her trademark ponytail, she murmured, “So do you.”

“Of course I do,” Catra scoffed, her tail curling behind her. A feeling of contentment washed over her as she stepped next to Adora and stared at their reflection in the mirror. Her eyes remained focused on Adora’s reflection, on watching as she tied up her hair. When they were younger, this had been an all-too familiar sight. In the early mornings, before reporting in. Sometimes, Adora had even tried to detangle the wild bush that was Catra’s hair.

Then Adora left and Catra thought she would never see that sight again, never feel Adora’s hands on her scalp again. No, that wasn’t quite right.

Catra would have been glad to never see it again. To never feel it again. To have Adora’s blood spill over her hands like a river. Catra didn’t have to look at the bullet scar on Adora’s back to know just how close she’d been to her wish.

Dragging herself out of memory lane, Catra laced her arms behind her head. “Can’t believe Frosta is letting you come. I thought you were banned for life.”

Adora immediately glared at Catra’s reflection. Her shoulders hunched, her hands balling into a fist. “Because of you.”

“A little, I’ll admit,” Catra nodded sagely, ignoring Adora’s indignant squawk. She examined their reflections, now that they were both ready. They looked so different than they did the first time they had gone to prom, all those years ago. Since then, they had each gained scars—Catra could feel a chill in the air through the bald patches on her tail.

And her ear…she reached up to touch her half-torn ear. She could still remember how she got this, protecting Adora even though Catra could have killed her. Even though Catra should have killed her.

Their story could have ended back there. If she had had it her way, it would have.

“Last time we looked like this…” Adora softly stated, remembering as well. Her body relaxed, her fists opening. She rubbed her scarred knuckles absentmindedly. “We were at war.”

“Yeah.” Catra kept her eyes glued on the mirror. Reality was warped in their reflections, making it easier to talk. “I was just thinking about that.”

“You’re surprisingly honest today.” Adora cocked her head. Her ponytail bobbed with the movement. Reaching out, she squeezed Catra’s hand. “I like it.”

“You would,” Catra grumbled, but she didn’t pull away. Turning her hand over, she interlaced their fingers. It felt entirely too cheesy and she wholehearted blamed Bright Moon for that. Whatever the people here had, it was infectious. “Don’t—”

“Get used to it?” Adora completed, smirking. She chuckled, her shoulders shaking. “You know, for someone who likes to think they’re so unpredictable, you’re actually kinda predictable?”

Catra’s tail twitched as she curled her lip in displeasure. “Less predictable than you, at least.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Adora cooed, leaning close and bumping their shoulders.

Catra took everything back—spending time with Glimmer and Bow and whichever princess that had led to this, it was clearly a mistake. Well, whatever. She could have her revenge tomorrow—tonight they had a date and she wasn’t going to ruin it.

Letting go of Adora, she fished inside her pocket for a slim ribbon. “Turn to me.”

“What?” Adora blinked, surprised.

Grabbing her shoulders, Catra rolled her eyes as she forced Adora to move. “And you say I’m bad at following directions.”

“You are!” Adora protested but she didn’t resist. Facing Catra, she stared at her with a curious expression. “So?”

Now that Catra was actually doing it, she felt a little awkward. It was just a gift. A tiny gift. She’d gotten plenty of them from Adora before. She curled her hand around the red choker. What the hell was she feeling embarrassed about? It was a trinket.

“Catra?” Concerned, Adora clutched her arm. “You ok?”

Adora’s warmth ran up her arm and Catra stared into her eyes. Her clear, honest eyes. That had been consistent, no matter what side of the sword they had stood, no matter how broken their relationship had gotten. She had forgotten all about it when she’d stayed with the Horde, trying to carve a place where she belonged, a place that was not in Adora’s shadow.

Even then, Adora had looked at her. Not through, but at. It was something Shadow Weaver and Hordak never did, for all that they used her. Even Entraptra and Scorpia, for all of their offered friendship, never seemed to really see Catra back then.

But Adora had. Even when they had been at each other’s throats, Adora had never turned away.

Catra lowered her eyes and slowly released her breath. Really, what was she worried about. Pulling out the red choker, she leaned closer. “I got you something.”

Brushing aside Adora’s ponytail, Catra reached around and wrapped the choker around Adora’s neck. Her fingers fumbled with the hook for a moment. A soft click and she stepped back. It looked better than she’d expected and she averted her gaze.

Adora’s hand shot up, immediately feeling out the choker. Quickly, she turned to the mirror and her jaw went slack. “Catra…”

“If you don’t—”

Before Catra could finish her sentence, Adora hugged her tightly. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Catra stumbled back a step before adjusting to the weight. Gingerly, she wrapped her arms around Adora and hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I…it’s…”

“Oh?” Adora laughed, and Catra could hear the smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

Banter. That was comfortable territory and Catra grinned as she pulled back. This was something she could handle. “Wanna find out?”

“Mmph!” Adora’s surprised squawk was immediately muffled as Catra kissed her. Ever competitive, Adora pressed back, her grip tightening around Catra.

It felt right. Adora’s arms, Adora’s warmth, _Adora—_ it all felt right. Catra had taken years to find out what she should have known all along: she had always belonged here, next to Adora.

Fortunately, that didn’t mean she had to stop teasing her girlfriend. Just as Adora was getting comfortable, Catra slipped out of her grasp and glanced at the clock. “I think we’re gonna be late.”

“You...” Adora grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. Unable to argue the point, she shot Catra a glare before grabbing a bracelet off her drawer. “Alright, I’m ready.”

With a laugh, Catra looped an arm around Adora’s. She’d make up for it later. Tapping her chin as they strolled out of the room, she asked, “Wanna bet on how long it’ll take Frosta to kick us out?”

Adora sighed fondly. “At least give us an hour.”


End file.
